


Family Outing

by eggutarteu



Series: Logan Needs Love [1]
Category: Marvel, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Charles is a flirt, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Laura is a cutie, Logan Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggutarteu/pseuds/eggutarteu
Summary: “It isn’t often we see four generations out to eat here. It’s so darling.”Better watch your cholesterol, Logan.
Relationships: Logan (X-Men) & Reader, Logan (X-Men)/Reader
Series: Logan Needs Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024282
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	Family Outing

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of time this break being snowed in to rewatch the X-Men movies and realize how much I'm still a hoe for them and how many of the characters just need a damn hug.

The epitome of instant regret was when you unlatched the rusted door of the SUV, thus destroying the only barrier keeping you sealed from the stinging cold. With one swift push of your leg your body was embraced in the icy hold of the Wisconsin winter. You pulled your puffy coat as far as the down would stretch and attempted to hug the incoming shivers away. 

Through the whirlwind of snowflakes you could make out the neon lights of the rustic diner’s sign. It was the single pop of color against the otherwise ivory landscape. You would have thought it was picturesque if the snow wasn’t attacking your eyes and you weren’t turning into an icicle. 

Logan rounded the van and opened the back door, revealing Charles bundled up in a knit crimson scarf and matching mittens you had bought at your last rest area stop. 

“Why wasn’t I born with a mutation that allows me to shoot fire out of every part of my body?” You grumbled, the sparks of blue energy flitting from your fingers at most melting one snowflake at a time. To which ten more would take the zapped one’s place.

Logan chuckled as he unloaded the wheelchair. Once it was unfolded, he reached in and set Charles down with as much tenderness his aching muscles could muster. Logan had been out of the van for only 30 seconds and his beard was beginning to frost over already. 

“I’m freezing my ass-” 

“Language.” Charles cautioned, the snow beginning to collect on the shoulders of his tweed jacket and comically sliding down his bald head. 

“Do you want me to come over there and warm it up for you?” Logan shot you a devilish smile as he moved Charles out of the way of the door. 

“Please do.” You said, testing him. 

“Save that for later, please.” Charles grumbled, brushing his head with one mitten. 

Laura was the last to pop out of the vehicle, her bright pink coat competing with the restaurant’s sign for dominance in the snowstorm. She immediately interlinked her arm with yours as she huddled into your side for warmth. Despite the polar vortex outside, the establishment was roaring with activity. From the dreariness of the parking lot it looked like an oasis with its inviting artificial lighting and promises of heat. 

The moment you walked through the entryway you were bombarded with a wave of central heating. A chaotic chorus of cheering and flying sports jerseys sparked your nerves with anxiety. 

“Should we go somewhere else?” You suggested, peeking around a wood column that was heavily over decorated with Americana junk. The increasing amount of close calls, unhealed cuts, and mutant exposures your party was encountering was only fueled your paranoia. Places you would have felt perfectly safe in ten years ago were now potential threats. 

“There _is_ no where else around here. Unless you wanna eat gas station hot dogs with twinkies as desert.” Logan’s comment was abruptly lost in the wave of intense cries as the Packers scored a touchdown. Laura grimaced at the proposition and audibly gagged. 

Logan had picked up your jittery state; teeth nibbled at the already raw skin of your bottom lip and fingers nervously played with a strand of Laura’s long obsidian tresses. After spending so many years together your moods were as transparent to him as everyone’s thoughts were to Charles. 

“I don’t think that these obese and balding football fans are going to jump us anytime soon.” Logan said, placing a comforting hand on your back and rubbing ginger circles along the fluffed material of your coat. You cracked a small grin at his comforting words.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, listening to the clashing of drinks and voices, until a waitress emerged out of the sea of sloshing beers. She cursed as she vigorously wiped her shirt with a cloth. She almost didn’t notice you until your professor cleared his throat. 

“Excuse me, darling.” Charles cracked a coy smile at the middle aged waitress. Her head snapped in your direction, eyes dancing excitedly over Logan before realizing the actual owner of the voice who had summoned her. 

“But we haven’t been seated yet.” Charles finished, looking at her expectantly. 

“Ah, sure! Just four of ya?” She confirmed with a wide smile, her bleached bob bouncing as she hurried over to the podium. Her eyes flicked from your group to the seating chart while flitting through the pile of menus. Her gaze lingered a little too long on Logan for your taste. Now that Logan was beginning to look older, a plethora of older women would put the movies on him. Not like that didn’t ever happen before, but somehow it dug just a little deeper under your skin these days.

“Would you like to color, sweetie?” The wrinkles around the server’s eyes deepened warmly at Laura. The young mutant nodded excitedly, but stayed clenched to your side. 

“Okie dokie, you’re in luck! We have one table left out of the way of the game watchers.” She declared cheerily, motioning for you to follow her with a flick of her wrist. Logan took to the helm of Charles’ wheelchair and weaved through the landslide of bodies to a table out of the way of the cacophony. 

“Now make yourselves comfortable, I’ll go grab ya’ll some water and be back in a jiffy.” She promised and pulled out one of the chairs to make room for Charles.

  
You take a seat diagonal of Charles, your shivers dying down enough for you to shed your coat. Logan moved to take the seat next to you but was swiftly intercepted by Laura.

“Stealing my spot, half pint?” Logan regarded her with a raised brow. She raised hers right back and smugly brushed past him and took a seat, leaving Logan blinking. Although brief and often awkward, their interactions were endearing to you. There was so much of Logan you could see in her. He grumbled and plopped into the chair across from you.

  
“My flirting worked, you are welcome.” Charles proclaimed with a triumphant smirk and motioned to the table as if he won it in a competition. 

“Ever the sexiest member of all of us.” Logan responded with a fond look, shrugging off his outer layer to reveal a light washed jean jacket. 

You were about to quip back with a playful comment involving one of your old friends, but decided to keep it to yourself in fear of going deeper into the sore spot of Charles’ accident. The devastating incident ripped apart the three of your hearts and left unremovable hooks embedded in the flesh. They twisted painfully everyday and reminded you of just how much you lad lost. 

“My dear, pretending it didn’t happen won’t make it any better.” Charles reassured. You often forgot he was still able to get inside your head. He may have been going senile but that didn’t eliminate the fact that he was an exceedingly powerful mutant. Among his incredible natural gifts, perhaps the most remarkable was his ability to connect to others with a single look. 

Logan watched the two of you quizzically while Laura began planning the color scheme for her coloring pages. A hesitant moment passed, but the fond memories temporarily overrode the sadness. 

“I was gonna say that Scott was the sexiest member of the X-Men.” You remarked, lips turning up with a sentimental and teasing grin as you twiddled your fingers into the folds of the napkin in front of you. When you looked back up, the expression on Logan’s face was the closest thing to a pout you had ever seen him do. It was boyish and contradicted his rough exterior. 

“Oh so now pretty boys are your type?” He interjected, eyes narrowing. 

“Well I guess you are the exception.” You threw back, satisfied with how immaturely bothered he looked. You had always argued with Logan that he too was beautiful, but to no avail of course. 

You barely had the chance to look over the menu before the waitress aparated with a tray of waters, deftly placing a glass at each of your spots. 

“Well golly me, aren’t you a beautiful family?” She remarked kindly in a thick Midwestern speech, hands placed firmly on her hips. 

“Thank you.” Charles responded in his charmingly posh accent. 

“It isn’t often we see four generations out to eat here. It’s so darling.” She cooed with an animated hand over her heart. A jolt seemed to shoot through both you and Logan; his gulp of water going down the wrong pipe, throwing him into a coughing fit, and you into a nervous laughter.

Well that was a first.

Charles was constantly getting mistaken for Logan’s dad by strangers so that came as no shock. You were usually grouped in as the little sister or even a cousin. But for Logan to be your _dad_ must mean he was really starting to look older. And it was a new installment that Laura was now your daughter instead of Logan’s. 

You were young and in your late twenties, with much less life experience than the two men in front of you. But it wasn’t until recently that you felt the increasingly lingering age gap between you and your companions. Despite being over a century old, Logan had always looked young, _felt_ young. No one had ever batted an eye at your relationship and as much as you would reassure that it didn’t get under your skin, of course it did. Him being mistaken for your dad, older brother, hell maybe sometime soon it would be (god forbid) _grandfather_ reaffirmed that Logan was deteriorating. But despite the peppered beard and the bags that framed his eyes, the youthful wolverine that would whisk you away on the back of his Harley still remained. 

And as awkward as it may have been, it was also bloody hilarious. Laura and Charles held in their amusement as the waitress watched on unaware of your little family’s true relations. 

“Anyway, speaking of darlings, what can I get ya honey?” She inquired in your direction, reaching into her apron and grabbing her notepad and pen. 

“Uh-I’ll have the country fried steak and a coffee please.” You sputtered, finding it increasingly hard to hold in your chuckles at Logan’s sour expression. 

“And for your daughter?” Her pen was waiting expectantly. Laura pointed at the meal she wanted, finger tapping vigorously at the Mountains O’ Brownies Hot Cocoa. 

“She’ll have the dinosaur chicken nuggets and hot cocoa.” Once you had put in the order for her Laura immediately returned to her elaborate coloring. 

“And for you, handsome?” The waitress beamed at Charles which only inflated his ego. 

“Oh, I’ll have a ripe glass of cranberry juice and the fish and chips. Could you spare me an extra serving of tartar sauce um-?” Charles asked with flavorful charisma, stopping to peer at her name tag.

“...Debbie?” Charles sealed his request with a wiggle of his eyebrows. It was refreshing to see him with so much vigor. 

“I sure can.” Debbie agreed, matching Charles’ level of charm. 

“And for you? I see you get your rugged good look from your father.” She turned to Logan with giddiness. He paused to look over the menu once more, giving you ample time to slip in some loving banter. 

“Do you know what you want, dad?” You chimed innocently, craning your neck at Logan. His knuckles tightened around the laminated paper. 

“Medium-rare steak and a lager.” Logan put forth his order somewhat awkwardly. 

“Alrighty, then! I’ll go put those in.” Debbie said, whisking herself away through the crowd. 

Logan regarded you with a playful fire and feigned annoyance in his gaze. 

“You better stop, bub.” 

“Or else what? I’m just trying to make sure that my daddy has a healthy cholesterol level.” You shrugged, peeping at him through your eyelashes. You could see something mischievous sparking within his eyes as he studied you from across the table. The look he gave you shaved eternities from his being. 

“Logan clean up your thoughts.” Charles sighed, minorly disgusted. Laura found it one of the funniest things in the world when Charles scolded Logan, and her cheeks looked like they were going to strain from how much she was giggling. 

“And you too, Y/N.” 

Logan’s smirk was full to the brim with while you shook your head hoping the redness of your cheeks could be blamed on the cold. You felt like a student again being reprimanded by your teacher. Both of you caught red handed, you lightly kicked Logan’s shin from under the table. He threw his hands up in defeat. 

“I am too old for these scandalous scenarios and Laura is too young.” Charles remarked with a wave of his hand. At the mention of her name, Laura cocked her head to the side with curiosity. 

Charles suddenly let out a chuckle.

“Laura wishes to know what you used to look like, Logan.” He announced as Laura nodded and poked at her cheek in thought. 

“Isn’t this enough?” Logan pointed to himself but Laura wasn’t having it. 

Charles closed his eyes and focused on sending his memories to the girl. But instead, the sneaky man sent them to the rest of you too. Images floated by in whisps, their edges hazy but their contents clear as a summer sky: 

_Logan walked aside Charles and Hank up to the steps of a suburban home, the three men donned in bell bottom jeans and shiny belt buckles. As they awaited an answer at the door, Charles pushed his long hair out of his eyes, Hank fidgeted in place, and Logan adjusted his aviators on the bridge of his nose._

_Logan emerged from the freshly landed aircraft, hair ruffled from the wear and tear of combat yet his skin tight silver suit had remained in tact. He rolled his eyes at something Jean said and Ourouro laughed heartily, tapping him on the shoulder as she danced past._

_Logan held an overjoyed Rogue in his arms after returning home from one of his excursions, his duffel bag left discarded at the grand doorway. Her grin was so wide that it spread itself all the way to Logan’s face as he answered all her eager questions._

_Logan and Scott were nose to nose, throwing snarky comebacks back and forth until Kurt accidentally teleported directly between them, sending both men flying to the wooden floor of the hallway. The students walking by giggled at the scene while Kurt profusely apologized to his fallen comrades._

_Logan was seated on Scott’s electric yellow bike, one foot on the kickstand and the other planted on the ground. You were perched behind him, arms snaked around his waist with the elaborate garden of Xavier’s School in the background. Kitty snapped a photo as the two of you beamed at the camera._

Laura’s face was a joy to watch as she experienced each mental clip. Her expressions would contort cutely between shock, smiles, and snickers. When Charles had concluded his flashbacks, the artificially posed deer head on the wall welcomed you back to reality with its beady black eyes. 

“Handsome, huh?” You nudged Laura’s shoulder, rubbing the corner of your eye and slyly scraping at the moisture that pooled. Tears burned behind your pupils and when you briefly locked eyes with Logan you attempted to blink them away. You all had done your fair share of crying for a lifetime.

Laura placed a small hand on your cheek. The way she looked at you was full of childish comfort, like running through a blossoming orchard in spring. Her gaze formulated any words you could have heard from her silent lips. 

Charles broke the sentimentality with a melodious laugh. Logan reached for your hand resting on the wood paneling, intertwining his calloused fingers with yours together lovingly. 

“You truly think so, Laura?” He asked to her unheard question. She hummed confirmation looking between Logan and Charles and squinting her eyes. 

“She says I was more attractive than Logan, but she sees why Y/N liked you.” Charles interpreted, the smug grin engulfing his wrinkles. 

“Gee thanks, kid. That’s a real confidence booster.” Logan huffed, his tone rough but laced with humor. He reached over to poke her on her forehead, to which she mischievously tried to bite his palm. 

“Charles’ hair was quite luxurious…” You trailed off, causing Logan to snap his head towards you and Charles to nod approvingly. 

As if there were portals scattered throughout the establishment, Debbie suddenly hovered into view once again. This time with the thick aroma of copious amounts of chocolate with a hint of beer. Only, her appearance was slightly different than before; a few buttons of her shirt unbuttoned to expose some skin. You and Logan simultaneously jerked your hands out of their tangle and hastily placed them in positions you hoped looked natural. 

“Here you go! The food should be out in a little bit.” Debbie chirped. You applauded her for how she could remain so upbeat with such a rowdy crowd overpowering her shift. 

“So-.” She started, residing to stand next to Logan, popping her hip out dangerously close to his head that rested on his hand. 

"Where do you work? Those strong arms have to deal with some hands on material." Debbie drawled as if there was pure honey coating her lips. 

You sipped your coffee obnoxiously loud as you regarded her flowery gaze and invasion of privacy. Logan subtly leaned back to avoid any contact.

"I'm a lumberjack." He responded blandly in the hopes of discouraging her increasing proximity. But that choice in job only fueled the fire inside her. 

“Oh my, working hard to support your family. You know, being a single mother is a lot of work but it’s completely worth it. My daughter has to be just a few years younger than yours. God I remember her teenage years; so full of angst and emotion. But I bet yours was a good girl.” Debbie blabbed on, and then winked at you.

"You look like such a capable man, I bet parenting was a breeze." She continued. The sheer amount of sugary undertones in her voice was almost enough for you to zap her hand that was inching dangerously close to Logan's forearm. 

Logan decided that now was the perfect time to get you back. His eyes held nothing but teasing vengeance as they darted over to you then back to Debbie. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that she was a _good girl_. She was pretty naughty in her younger years.” Logan elaborated, noting how flustered he was making you. 

“Naughtiness runs in the family.” Charles joined in, giving Logan a generous slap on the back. 

“Oh deary me.” Debbie fanned herself as if she was getting hot and bothered. "Well aren't ya'll just the funniest." 

The unnatural laugh that was forced from her chest made you want to gag. 

"Let me know if you need anything else, m’kay?” Debbie’s question was spoken towards the table in all its entirety, but she stood facing Logan. Her tone was as viscous as maple syrup. 

The rest of the meal passed with good natured bickering, full bellies, and a few broken crayons. Once you had adjusted the zipper on Laura’s coat she took hold of Charles and began wheeling him back to the front. Logan was leaving the tip when he noticed something scrawled on his napkin. 

"Y/N, look." He called, holding the limp fabric between his fingers. You emerged at his side and moved his hand so you could get a better look. 

"Oh hell _no._ " You said perhaps a little too loudly. You snatched the foul napkin from his grip, puffs of your energy discretely incinerating it. The ten digits followed by a kissy-emoji were burned from existence in a flash. This Midwestern mom was totally in for it. Meanwhile, this was Logan's prime entertainment for the evening. 

Walking arm and arm, Debbie flagged you down for one final parting. 

"I hope to see you two again. Maybe I'll bring my daughter too and you both can have a chat while us older folk have one of our own." She said, batting her eyelashes like a lovesick girl. 

"Uh- thanks but I have a feeling that might not be the case." Logan answered with a plastered smile. Before Debbie could fiddle in another comment you cleared your throat. 

"Oh, baby, you have something on your face." You out-rightly cooed, turning to Logan with an exasperatingly lovey look. Debbie blinked in confusion and even Logan was taken aback by the sudden switch in behavior. Gripping the lapels of Logan’s jean jacket, you abruptly pressed your chapped lips to his. He grunted in surprise but responded fully, catching onto your little antics. His hand was a ghost at your waist when you pulled away. 

And goddamn, was it hard to break away. 

Debbie audibly gasped and horror was the only word that came close to the animation of expressions that crossed her features. She sputtered disjuncture phrases about unholiness, disgusting, and how she always attracts the weirdos of the world. 

Seeing you satisfied, Logan wrapped an arm around your shoulders and began walking towards the van. 

“Well well, if I could get you to kiss me like that again I’ll make sure more older women flirt with me.” His words felt like velvet against your ears. When you elbowed his side he only pulled you closer, squeezing your shoulder when the cold hit your bodies once again. 

"So cute." 

⇷⛒⇸

Laura gripped your hand with hers, stopping you just as you reached for the door knob of your motel room. 

“What’s up?” 

She was hiding something behind her back, the corners of crisp paper visible against her small frame. She then revealed her secret, holding the coloring pages out to you. Of the two pages, one was labeled with your name and one with Logan’s. Your page depicted fierce T-Rex with fiery breath spouting across the adeptly colored sky. Riding atop of it Laura had taken some creative liberty by adding a figure that was definitely you; hair flowing wildly in the wind and blue sparks streaming from your hands. 

“This is beautiful Laura! You remembered I loved dinosaurs from the time we hid out in the natural history museum?” You cooed, touched that she had put so much thought into the drawing. Laura grinned triumphantly and nodded vigorously. 

Thumbing over to the other page your breath caught in your throat and was replaced with a surprised cackle. Laura seemed pleased with this reaction to her masterpieces as she began to bounce up and down on her heels. 

This coloring page was of a unicorn prancing through a field of poppies, but Laura had enhanced it so an exceedingly angry Logan rode atop of it. His face was red, his hair looked as if it had been electrocuted, and he boasted an intimidating row of sharp teeth. His claws were extended outward and one hand had impaled a rainbow. 

“Do you want me to give this to Logan?” You offered, wrapping yourself in your winter coat. Laura made a noise of agreement. 

“I will go show these off to the unicorn rider himself.” You booped her nose with your finger. 

The snow had stopped, thankfully, making it easier for you to navigate your way out to the back of the motel. Turning the corner, the pines thickened to reveal a small courtyard with a few picnic tables that overlooked the evergreen thicket. A puff of smoke rose from the edge of the brick wall, an indicator that Logan was residing just on the other side. 

Your palm extended and your energy billowed outward. It weaved through the wintery air until it zapped Logan on his exposed skin just under his ear. Muffled curses broke the silence of the night followed by the crunching of your footsteps. When you reached him he was rubbing his neck, cigarette discarded haphazardly in the snow. 

“That shit never ceases to startle me.” He grumbled, rolling his neck and shoulders that generated a few unwanted cracks. 

“Glad I can keep you on your toes.” You sang happily. You stuffed your hand in your pocket and delicately removed the folded paper. You separated the drawings and passed Logan the one with his name on it. 

Logan regarded the paper with intrigue. Unfolding it, he was taken aback by the sheer detail of the piece. A small smile graced his lips.

“So this is what she was coloring the whole time.”

“It’s cute right? I got one too.” You unfolded yours and offered it to him. His eyes narrowed as they alternated between your drawing to his. 

“Why is yours so bad ass and I’m stuck riding a damn unicorn?” He complained light-heartedly, face scrunching at the rainbow. 

“Don’t question an artist.” You shrugged. 

“She got the hair and the teeth right.” You commented. You plucked the page from his fingers and held it up face level. He stared at you, tongue to the inside of his cheek, as you compared the two Logans.

“See? You’re twins.” You chuckled. “And she even got the kitty claws spot on.” 

Logan rolled his eyes at your pet name for his mutation. He waited until you placed the pages safely into your pocket and then pulled you to himself. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and your hands came to rest at the small of his back. 

“Hi, Lo.” You gazed up at him, resting your chin on his chest. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He responded. The concoction of silky gentleness paired with a deep gravel manifested his voice into a purr. He reached a delicate hand to run it through your hair. 

“Aren’t you cold?” You asked with light concern. He was out here in the middle of winter, almost in a forest, in just a flannel. 

“Actually, yeah a little. Which is a new development.” He exhaled with a shaky chuckle. Logan never got cold. You spotted the man wearing a tank top once while taking his class outside for some additional sparring practice in the middle of the frosty New York January. You shimmied your shoulders to generate some friction between your bodies. 

“Better?” You asked playfully. He hummed, the vibrations from his chest sending goosebumps along your skin despite being bundled up. Another lazy hand danced through your locks.

“I’m sorry if our teasing bothered you back at the restaurant.” You blurted. 

“You don’t need to worry about that offending me, Y/N.” 

There was a brief pause where only the swaying of the branches were the only words spoken between you. You let out a wobbly breath. 

“I just gotta joke about it because I know what it’s doing to you, Logan.” Your voice seemed to lose its strength and you turned your head to bury it against his flannel, now looking at the dark expanse of the forest instead. 

“I know.” His grip tightened around you and he rested his head on yours, fully engulfing you into his embrace. “Losing my healing factor itself doesn’t bother me. What gets to me is the fact that I’m getting worse at protecting you. Protecting Charles and Laura.”

His grasp twitched at the thought. You pulled away and cradled his hands in yours and examined his bruised knuckles. 

“Do they hurt?” Your thumbs ran the slightest of touches over the raw skin. 

“They always hurt.” Logan flexed the tendons weakly. 

“I mean more than usual.” You pressed. 

Logan didn’t reply. Fragility made his hardened features appear like a glass doll. He didn’t want to admit that it was like his hands were being ripped apart every time he extended them, how his week old cuts still burned with a tangy scalding. 

Your lips curled somberly. 

“You know the last memory Charles showed us at the restaurant?” You recounted, still staring at his scarred hands. 

“Mhm.” 

“That Logan is still the Logan that is standing in front of me right now. Not any less strong, capable, nor handsome.” You said with the sincerity of a love aged like wine. You added the last point with a tiny smirk. 

In a fluid movement, Logan pulled you into his embrace once more. His hand went to caress the plushness of your cheek with his course palm so that you were looking at him. The network of worn lines that traversed his face were illuminated by the baked lighting of the motel. His beard had grown out slightly more than usual as you hadn’t had time to catch a break lately. The mussed strands were tangled with silver ones, a color that you knew would soon over power the rich onyx. But those _eyes._ They swirled with the greens and browns that remembered every experience of his life even though he didn’t. Eternities of emotions and self proclaimed sins rippled through each crevice and landed on an expression so fond that he could have easily ripped out your heart with those adamantium blades. 

And this man could not have differed in appearance more than the man you had met years ago.

“You know how much I love you right?” He whispered, the words feeling inadequate on his lips. But when he molded his lips to yours, however, the feeling came closer to describing the love he still eternally bloomed with for you. 

But kissing him felt like you were kissing _him_. Not his appearance, his scars, his ailments. 

Just Logan. 

“Of course I do, because I love you just as much.” You breathed against his lips. When he pulled back, you both shared a goofy grin. 

“And I never said I wasn’t still handsome.” He raised his eyebrows, pure affection now lighting him up and drowning out the flickering bulbs. 

A brutal shiver suddenly cascaded along your form when a pocket of wind gusted past. 

“We’ve been out here long enough, let’s get inside before I have to warm your ass up for real.” Logan threatened, rubbing the sides of your arms.

“You know, handsome, we finally have a double room tonight…” You stated silkily, your fingers trailing downward to slip a finger into his belt loop. Logan’s breath hitched and he bit at the corner of his lip.

“First you gotta take back what you said about Scott.” Logan _actually_ purred his time, and suddenly he felt warmer than he did a few moments ago. 

“And what if I don’t?” You concurred, idly dragging your fingertips along his torso. And in that moment you swore that all the lines on his face disappeared, his gray hairs dyed themselves raven and locks grew luscious. His built fortified, that leather jacket straining against muscle, and those eyes dilated with an eternal flame. 

“Then daddy’s gonna be very upset.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
